


Crepes and Chill

by Wanderlust_Novadust



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Begging, Crowley loves to bottom also don't @ me, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Foreplay, Gay fic, Light Dom/sub, M/M, NSFW, Porn, Porn with some plot, Reach Around, Sex, aziraphale is a verse don't @ me, handjob, mlm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 06:45:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19223782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wanderlust_Novadust/pseuds/Wanderlust_Novadust
Summary: Crowley finally tried the crepes Aziraphale had been begging for him to try, and Crowley decides he wants to spend a little more time with him afterward.





	Crepes and Chill

This was no ordinary meet-up from the start. Who was Crowley to question things—except the exact man to question everything. That get up? In this century of France? God, he loved this dumb angel. Now, he wasn’t always dumb, but sometimes his standards got ahead of his… Well, his head. This was usually fine, but let’s face it: dying is a lot of paper work. And he reminded him of that.

“You know, dying would’ve been a lot of paper work,” Crowley piped up as they walked out in far more common clothes. The executions were behind them, though the cheering was far from quiet, even as they got further and further away. The death, the metal shings, the whole sha-bang was far from a silent party.

“Yes, yes, as you’ve reminded me.”

Aziraphale was not exactly in the mood to be lectured by a demon, no matter how casual the meeting had become. Crowley got that. Crowley hated being lectured about much of anything, especially by the opposing side, and no matter how attractive the man from the other side usually was. (This was to say, it was almost always Aziraphale. Almost. Occasionally, instead of him, it’d be some other angel—but most of those ones never got back to heaven in one piece for rather obvious reasons. Sometimes, not always purposeful, but obvious none the less.)

“Either way, you have brought up crepes a few times now for the last… I’d say three or so centuries?”

“I’ve been trying to get you to give them a shot for longer than that.”

It took a moment, but it clicked. “Since Rome, right?”

“Oh, you remembered.” As condescending as it would’ve sounded from anyone else, Aziraphale sounded cheerful enough about it that Crowley hardly took the wording to heart.

“Of course! I may have been busy--”

“You weren’t,” Aziraphale chimed.

“--but I can’t pass up the offer forever, now can I?”

The nice little store they were coming up to for said crepes was entirely simple. Quaint gray stone made up the walls, the windows were clean with white wooden frames, and the neat little sign read the name plainly. “Boulangerie.”

“A little on the nose, ain’t it,” Crowley commented as he opened the door for his holier ‘friend.’

“Boulangerie—it um…”

“Pretty sure it just means bakehouse. Or, at least, something like that.”

“It is a little on the nose, I suppose,” Aziraphale muttered as he passed Crowley into the building. The door closed rather quietly behind them. This was abnormal for Crowley. He always slammed doors. 

The fact that he didn’t make a ruckus with the door or the “on the nose” name of the shop meant something was amiss, but nothing Aziraphale was poking at… At least, not yet, anyway. If Crowley was anxious, it made enough sense: he did have to pull a few strings (and switch a few outfits, change a few names, rearrange some memories and allegiances) all in the name of saving an angel. If it were Aziraphale—he’d be a bit off himself.

It was a pretty ‘human’ experience from there to a table and to ordering crepes. Crowley had not a damn idea of what to order at first, seeing different sorts and all that and having not been acquainted enough with all the types to know what from who. Aziraphale, on the other hand, knew his tastes. He also knew to not suggest strawberries, for reasons that aren’t entirely important but certainly interesting. (Did you know strawberries were a sure fire way to get a demon riled up?)

“Peach crepes. I figure you’d like them—a favorite of mine.”

“Never really… Well, never tried much of anything, but I sure haven’t tried peaches.”

Crowley didn’t have all the time in the world to try things that reminded him a lot of the fall of man. Most things that grew on trees and even vaguely resembled apples. It would take a lot of convincing to get Crowley to even consider eating it.

“They’re very sweet, and I know you’ve always had a real sweet tooth,” Aziraphale chimed with a smile.

“Really?”

“Yes, and they are nothing like apples.”

“They grow no trees though, don’t they? Apples grew on trees.” Crowley said this with a lack of confidence—but he was fairly certain that apples may have still grown on trees.

“Crowley, apples still do grow on trees.”

“Exactly.” 

Crowley remembered, he swears.

“Alright, but...”

Where Aziraphale got the apple he took out of his coat, Crowley didn’t entirely care. He hated apples no matter how miraculous their conception. 

“Peaches are far more… How would you say—squishy? They aren’t so solid.”

Now this? This had Crowley intrigued. “Really then?”

Aziraphale set the apple down, rather hastily getting a peach out as well. He was muttering under his breath about where he’d set a knife and all that before he actually got to cutting the apple open.

“Azzy, I know what the inside of an apple looks like, I watched them eat one in the Garden.”

“Alright, but just look at this.”

The first intriguing thing to Crowley was that Aziraphale didn’t just cut the damn thing in half. In fact, he cut around it, though he did get it in two very prim and equal halves. These halves also were far different from the halves of the apple, and he’d admit to that. Juicier, softer, and the core? One large, hard core—a peach pit… Huh.

“Alright… So they are rather different,” Crowley admitted in rather reluctant defeat.

“So when the crepes get here, you’ll give them an actual try?”

“Yes, yes… Say, did you freeze time, or was that me on accident or something?”

“Oh, that was me. Apologies.”

Crowley only realized things weren’t moving when it hit him their food really should’ve been here by now and they shouldn’t have been able to have this entire exchange about apples and peaches uninterrupted. As things got moving again though, he grabbed one of the peach halves. Fuzzy… This was yet another thing he could add to the list that separated them very much from apples.

“Not much like pears then,” Crowley commented half to nobody in particular as their food actually arrived, right on time.

“Pears?”

“Well, yes. Besides the shape, pears are a lot like apples. Waxy outside, all solid inside, no big core that’s hard to cut through and all that.”

“I suppose that would make pears and apples rather similar,” Aziraphale said with that trademark ‘Crowley is rambling again’ smile he always wore when he knew Crowley was going to bring things to dolphins at some point.

“Right, well,” Crowley began as he got a bite of crepe. It was good. This was yet another admittance of defeat, though he’d hardly voice this one. Aziraphale would know because he would actually keep eating it.

“I bet you, dolphins wouldn’t like either of them.”

“Well, don’t dolphins eat fish? I would think dolphins wouldn’t like pears, apples, or peaches even.”

“No, no, Azzy,” Crowley started as Aziraphale just got to eating. “You know, peaches—they actually taste like something worth eating. They’re all sweet and juicy. Such innocent creatures, they’d love peaches! Innocent things like sweet things, I think.”

“Don’t you like sweet things?”

Crowley opened his mouth to retort, but then he saw that wide grin. Oh dear. There was no getting around this.

“I’m a demon, I’m not innocent.”

He wouldn’t start a big scene over it in the middle of a nice brunch, but he certainly wouldn’t let Aziraphale get away with the remark. He’d have hell to pay (literally) if anyone near by just so happened to be someone important. It’d also just become a matter of pride at this point! He got things done, God didn’t, and if that meant being not-so-innocent, then by the Devil—Crowley was not innocent at all.

“Whatever you say.”

The meal was rather casual from there. Of course, the ramblings between the two were nonsensical at points to those who were casually tuning in, but to an angel and a demon that hardly mattered. What mattered to Aziraphale was the time together, and enjoying it, even if only silently. What mattered to Crowley was enjoying the current time, but also offering something a little more. 

“Say, what have you got planned for after this,” Crowley asked as he noticed Aziraphale finish up. He himself we also just popping the last bite into his mouth.

“I figure one of us will pay,” this usually meant Aziraphale, “and from where we might go our separate ways a while. I may have work to do after all.”

“Well, I mean, does this little rendezvous have to end so soon?”

“What do you propose?”

Quick to abandon the call of duty just this once… Crowley didn’t blame him. Whatever little mission or so heaven sent him on, it seemed to have gotten in the way of opening that book store Aziraphale seemed dead set on getting set up. Crowley would be bitter too… He’s wanted to try something similar for a while. Perhaps a shop full of plants? He liked plants. He didn’t exactly treat them with the most loving touch in the world, but there were very few things Crowley knew how to be gentle with—and one of those things was alive in the most ethereal (or occult, depending on who you asked) way you could think of.

That thing was also a man. This man was sitting across from him right now. This man was the only thing he knew how to be gentle to, with a little more thought put to it. 

“Well, you know… There’s an inn not far from here. Hell wants me to blend in with the locals and cause some mischief.”

“I’d say you caused a little more than mischief,” Aziraphale almost said chidingly. 

Okay, maybe the head cutting was overboard. He’d give him that.

“Heaven’s letting you stick around, right?”

“Well, yes, to watch over you.”

“So,” Crowley began in that voice that usually meant he had a brilliantly awful idea. “We should perhaps maybe… You know… Get a room?”

“Crowley.”

“Now, now—hear me out!”

Aziraphale sighed, leaning back a bit in his seat. Crowley for once foot the bill, leaving the money on the table before gesturing to the door with his head. Man meant business if he was actually paying for things.

“If you’re supposed to watch over me, all in disguise and everything… Wouldn’t it be just perfect if we were in the same inn, maybe even the same room?”

“Crowley,” he said again with a bit more of a chuckle this time. He followed Crowley out, and he wasn’t walking away, so Crowley took that as the okay to keep going with his little, spontaneous plan.

“I could pay for that, like the crepes.”

“You’re real serious about this, hmm?”

“Yes, I am,” he said, turning to Aziraphale and stopping in his tracks.

“We haven’t gotten much time together lately, you know? Especially with how I’ve been set up with making things messy in parts of Europe. I can’t say I can take all the credit for this, but I do have to say—it’s gotten in the way of us just having nice, casual down time together.”

Aziraphale sighed. He couldn’t disagree with that. Now, if heaven would believe he was staying in the same room as Crowley purely for observation purposes or not was rather up in the air, but if hell had decided that Crowley was good to not be observed rather closely at all—it could just work. Especially with how heaven treated their interactions. What a wily angel they assumed he was (with regards to his work on and/or with Crowley, at least.)

“I can’t disagree. It has been… a while.”

“So you’ll get a room with me tonight?”

“Oh, fine.” 

The tone Aziraphale said it with was hardly bad. In fact, it was the perfect picture of a couple. One was the guy with the bad ideas, the other was the responsible one, and the one who usually had the terrible, bad, no-good schemes had finally roped the straight edge one into a little fun. It was a perfect moment that easily communicated to everyone around that they were most certainly in the mindset of an old married couple.

The fact that Crowley gave a little ‘yes’ and did a little dance didn’t help.

So, when night did fall, they got a room.

“I know a lovely little place,” Aziraphale said. “Quaint! Nice, somewhat secluded...”

“Well, I suppose that’s alright.”

“Yes, they don’t get much business. Not because of bad service! Just, it’s out of the way, you know? If you’re not stopping in the middle of the night during travel, you aren’t stopping for a night at all.”

Aziraphale always liked picking out the smaller places, and Crowley had an appreciation for it. Supporting the small businesses and all that. It was good, and though Crowley wasn’t much meant for good, it was the kind of good he could get away with and just pass off as a personal preference for small owned businesses based purely on aesthetic. So, in other words, it was a very silent ‘good.’

They got in, and as a show of good faith, Crowley let Aziraphale do the talking. Normally, Crowley was a ripe cunt to any humans who talked even a little too much… It was a habit he’d gotten into from hell. Ruins days, he’d been told. If he was going to have a nice night in an inn room with Aziraphale, he would avoid any bitch-ery before hand. They got the room, and Crowley ‘miraculously’ locked it behind them.

“You know, what do you call them?”

“Call what,” Aziraphale asked, entirely confused.

“When demons do things that you aren’t supposed to be able to. When you do it, it’s a miracle, but when we do it...”

Aziraphale just sort of waited. He didn’t really have much of an idea of what to call it.

“It’s called...”

Neither of them spoke this time. Silence. Absolute, confused silence.

“Well, perhaps you could call it a curse?”

“That doesn’t quite work,” Crowley said as he sat on the bed. “Imagine trying to make other words based off that. Like, you guys have ‘miraculously.’ How would you do that with the word curse? Cursedly?”

“Well, that could work,” Aziraphale said as he sat by him. He wasn’t wrong either. ‘Cursedly’ was a word, and Crowley could use it.

“It’s not much of a curse though, is it?”

“Well, you could just call them… Demonic miracles?”

No. They both shook their heads. That didn’t sound right at all. Crowley flopped back onto the (only) bed, and that’s when it finally occurred to Aziraphale. The hell were they doing in an inn room, in the middle of night, just outside the city of love?

“Crowley, why did you want to get a room?”

“It’s obvious, in’it?”

“Well, no,” Aziraphale said in perfect innocence. 

“Oh.”

Crowley sat back up. Should he just tell him? No, it wasn’t fun that way. He’d just lead Aziraphale into it…

“Well, there’s only one bed.”

Aziraphale nodded, humming a bit and looking around. Indeed… One bed. He wasn’t stupid—but he figured Crowley was leading into something.

“It’s a rather nice room too.”

“Yes?”

Hmm… “I locked the door with a curse.”

“Are you going with curse then?”

“Aziraphale, focus.”

“Right, right… Oh! Oh… Oh.”

Ah. He got it. Crowley nodded a few times, Aziraphale looking away in the usual embarrassment. 

“Ah! You got it! All red in the face in everything.”

“Crowley...”

“Aw, c’mon, you look cute!”

Crowley leaned over just a bit, gently taking him by the chin to turn his face back to him. It was an adorable sight, and he was going to tell him that.

“Oh, hush. Rather good of you to pay me a compliment.”

“You aren’t getting out of this that easily—you are cute. It’s a fact. Nothing good or evil about it.”

“Well, if we’re going to have sex, you’re taking off your sunglasses then.”

Crowley looked almost offended. “What?”

“I find your eyes entirely beautiful, and if I wanted to word it another way, cute.”

“No, no, no—you aren’t turning the tables on me like this. I am insecure about my eyes and you know it.” Who was Crowley to lie to himself? 

“Well… Perhaps I have some insecurities myself.”

“What can I call you then?”

Aziraphale pushed his face away lightly and with a giggle as Crowley went on.

“Handsome? Beautiful? The most amazing angel to grace Earth and the only nice one?”

“Oh, you devil, you...”

Crowley gently moved Aziraphale’s hand by the wrist, leaning back in close to his face. It was easier to see past his sunglasses this close up… Piercing eyes hidden behind tinted lenses. It was also apparent now that they were half lidded and staring directly back into Aziraphale’s. Lustfully, even. (Demons and their sins!)

“I can be a bit more of a devil, if that’s what you’d want.”

Crowley slipped a hand onto Aziraphale leg, and from there, up his thigh slowly. He gave Aziraphale all the time in the world to answer or stop his hand. 

“Oh! Normally, I’d be opposed to the idea of anything devilish, especially out of you...”

Aziraphale leaned in just a bit more, and from the smirk on Crowley’s face, he knew why.

“However, I think being in bed with you tonight calls for you to be, as you put it… ‘More of a devil.’”

That was when Aziraphale closed the distance, Crowley massaging into his thigh lightly as he did. From there, Crowley got a hand placed on his own thigh, and Aziraphale certainly moved forward a bit quicker. Moving right up, so close to his crotch as a tease before pulling his hand away. He broke the kiss there, smirking in his own innocent way at Crowley’s red face.

“Why don’t we get you a bit more undressed, hmm?”

“Taking the reigns for tonight, huh Azzy?”

Crowley shifted a bit, figuring his coat should go first. He was about to start unbuttoning it, but Aziraphale gently placed his hands over Crowley’s and moved them aside. Aziraphale got it undone as he spoke.

“I can read the room… You seem in more of a submissive mood tonight.”

Now, these moods could change at any point. Sometimes, in the middle of sex, Aziraphale would be told to stop, Aziraphale would be moved around a bit, and then Crowley would be play-choking him and telling him to say his name while having his way with him… However, Aziraphale didn’t mind. In fact, it kept things interesting, and Aziraphale was more than ready to follow the current mood where ever it went. 

“You read me more like an open book than a room,” Crowley remarked as he got the coat off from around his shoulders. Next was the undershirt, which he didn’t even try to go for himself. Aziraphale was right to getting that ready to be slipped off as well.

“I would hope so! How long we’ve known each other… Glad to know I’ve read things correctly.”

That was followed by a light and cheerful chuckle as Crowley was left naked from the bottom up. Now then, his pants… Aziraphale had not gone for those. He got off the bed, stepping back a bit with a smile on his face. This was far less innocent. This was the sort of sinful smile Aziraphale only wore on rare occasions, and Crowley knew what he was going to say before he said it.

“Why don’t you take off the rest yourself?”

Crowley muttered that he would as he got to the rest of the undressing… When he was all done, he was left several things: naked, hard, and rather needy.

“Why am I the only one naked?”

“Patience, Crowley...”

Aziraphale at least joined him again on the bed, leaning back in and smirking almost teasingly at Crowley… So close to a kiss, but just not there. He was already feeling back up Crowley’s bare thigh, and he was very quickly getting to a particular spot that drove demons absolutely wild. 

“Aziraphale, I swear--”

Crowley couldn’t finish that statement, as it died off into a soft, half growl of a groan. There were a few spots on the body especially sensitive for angels and demons alike (but particularly for demons) and just where the thigh connected and met the crotch was something else entirely. Crowley went from a bit pent up and needy to absolutely desperate in a matter of the few circles Aziraphale rubbed into the spot. Now, he wasn’t being vocal about it yet, but he certainly would be.

“Did you soundproof the room?”

“No, I only cursedly locked the door.”

Crowley’s tongue stuck out just a bit in a moment of smug defiance of something or another. Aziraphale snapped his fingers, smiling softly before moving from being inches from Crowley’s face to right at Crowley’s neck. He could feel Aziraphale’s breath, and that alone sent shivers up his spine.

“Well, I suppose we won’t have to worry about the noise now at least. I’d hate to wake anybody...”

With that thought out of the way, Aziraphale licked a stripe down Crowley’s neck, moving from teasing that accursed spot just past his thigh to running one finger up his cock. Crowley was shivering a second time now, though it was more of a tremble with how noticeable it was. Aziraphale smiled a bit before getting right to nibbling at the crook of his neck. His finger ran back down his cock, and from there he began to jerk him off just a bit. 

Aziraphale was going extremely slowly. It was relieving at first, but very quickly, the slow pace and the teasing nibbles had gone from relieving the tension to just torturous. Crowley’s hips responded before he could properly make a fuss about it, bucking just a bit into the touch in some hopes to urge him to go faster, or touch him elsewhere, or get a move on at least!

“Impatient, are we?”

“Impatient, me? No, never. Excited, sure, but not impatient.”

This was a series of very quickly (somewhat slurred together) lies that were all rather obvious. Aziraphale was at least entertained by them. In fact, they encouraged him to move his hand just a tad bit slower.

“Azzy,” Crowley whined softly…

“Oh, come now. If we’re going to both do something so blatantly sinful together, you might as well be loud about it. Not as though anybody is going to hear.”

There was a pause filled by Crowley’s soft sighs and Aziraphale’s expectant and silent smile. Then, Crowley responded how Aziraphale wanted, to the letter exactly.

“Aziraphale, please—this is torturous. Please...”

“You’re going to need to be more specific than just please.”

Azirphale did at least reward him for speaking at a respectable volume so quickly. He sped up with his hand to an equally respectable pace. Nothing fast, but a rather normal speed that was certainly better than what he’d been giving Crowley before.

“Fuck me!”

It came out louder than Crowley hoped, and more desperately too. Aziraphale had to admit, he was a little shocked, but he supposed the sudden speed shift was at least somewhat to blame. He enjoyed it either way.

“What was that?”

“Oh, c’mon Azzy, you know what I said. Fuck. Me!”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled out. Crowley had to have been waiting a while for this, he supposed… Crowley seemed far more worked up than normal for these excursions. Aziraphale moved away, and at first Crowley whimpered at the lack of contact. Crowley noticed moments later though that Aziraphale had gotten right to stripping, and his eyes darted right away as his face turned a deep shade of red. 

“Cute.”

“I am not cute.”

He could deny it, but Aziraphale won. He discarded his clothes rather neatly onto the end table by the bed, returning to now be the one to hold Crowley’s face and make him look him in the eye for a compliment.

“You are cute.”

He let go, and Crowley looked away a moment. This got a little giggle out of Aziraphale, but after, he tapped Crowley’s shoulder.

“If you could move around a little bit for me?”

“Y-yes, of course...”

Crowley didn’t really do the moving on his own, being more moved and directed by Aziraphale than anything. They were hardly in any complicated position. He got Crowley on his hands and knees, and he was right behind him; nothing as simple as that.

“You did remember to bring something to lube yourself up with, right? I’m a masochist, but I’m not exactly a fan of doing things dry.”

“That’s what miracles are for.”

“Thought you’d been doing too many of those,” Crowley teased.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes, responding equally as playfully. “Well, I don’t know if something leading into such a blatant sin as lust could be considered a miracle.”

Crowley wasn’t going to protest further, teasingly or not. He felt Aziraphale poke at first, before just getting right to it. That wasn’t to say he slammed in or anything fast and brash like that, but he was easing into things rather quickly. This was hardly Crowley’s first rodeo, and he needed little time to adjust. Aziraphale did stop around halfway in, however.

“You’re alright, right?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine, Azzy...”

Crowley had to admit: the concern was highly flattering. It made him all warm and fuzzy inside… 

“You always take things so well...”

Oh. The praising. That changed the mood ever so slightly. Things were still very romantic, but the sexual tension was brought back to the front and center of Crowley’s mind with a giant spotlight and everything. 

It wasn’t long after that Aziraphale was all but entirely inside him, and after giving him a moment just in case, he got to slowly moving. This was no torturous pace, but a cautious one. He was trying to satisfy, sure, but he was also doing all in his power to ease into things (despite the fact that Crowley wanted things fast and/or rough immediately.) Crowley hardly withheld his reactions either.

“Azzy...”

Most of the moans or sighs were accompanied by his name, or some soft muttering in a loving voice about how good it felt. Aziraphale had been silent past the initial praise, but it was around the third or fourth time Crowley muttered his name that Aziraphale chimed in himself again.

“You sound so wonderful saying my name.”

He went in a bit faster, a bit harder this time. This got a startled mewl out of Crowley, gripping the sheets under himself just a bit tighter…

“You should try saying it a bit louder.”

Crowley could feel his heart racing, his face was getting even hotter—god, he was always thrown through loops by the way Aziraphale seemed to perfectly play with his kinks. As he got to moving again, Crowley more than obeyed. He’d picked up the pace, so of course, Crowley picked up the volume.

“Oh, Azzy,” he moaned in a tone just above a speaking voice. It bordered on what one might call an outside voice already. The fact he was being so loud so quickly just tickled Aziraphale.

“Such a good little devil you can be.”

With that, Aziraphale gave Crowley exactly what he wanted. Crowley let out an especially desperate moan and gasp as he got to thrusting harder, nails sharpened out and clawing into the sheets rather roughly. Likely, he was going to have to fix little holes he’d poked into sheets after all of this. 

“Th-thank you… Thank you, Azzy...”

He was trying to sound maybe just a little less submissive than he’d really just become, but here he was. A perfect little demon for the world’s most perfect angel. His tongue lulled out as a few more wordless mewls and groans escaped him—but the thing that finally got him close to screaming himself hoarse was when Aziraphale finally reached around and started jerking him off in combination to the treatment his ass was getting.

“Fuck—Azzy!”

Aziraphale reached up with his free hand to pluck Crowley’s glasses off his face, setting them aside on the pillow before using that hand as support. Now he was leaning right over Crowley as he got to giving him the jack hammer treatment, and Crowley was hardly holding back on the volume. His eyes had tried to roll back, but when Crowley caught eye of Aziraphale admiring his expression—his slit pupils focused on him. (This did not change the drool or his forked tongue still hanging out his slightly mouth just a bit.)

“Absolutely adorable.”

“No,” he whimpered.

“You can be good but not cute?”

Aziraphale was given no real reply, just Crowley looked away a moment before Aziraphale said it again.

“As I said, adorable.”

“I-… I’m adorable...”

“There you go,” Aziraphale said as softly and lovingly as he could. He himself was close, which was a good thing. Usually, Crowley gave in as he was approaching his own climax.

“I’m cute, I’m adorable, I’m a good little devil!”

“Good… Good boy.”

“I… I… Azzy!”

It hit him like a shit ton of bricks, his thoughts going a bit fuzzy as Aziraphale let him ride out the high. It was moments after that he slammed into Crowley himself, shuddering a bit and muttering out his name. After a moment, he pulled out, and Crowley collapsed right under him.

“A little worn out, hmm?”

Aziraphale flopped right over next to him, satisfied little smirk on his face.

“I didn’t say any of that.”

“Oh, you did.”

“Who’d believe you?”

“Does that matter?”

Crowley didn’t have an answer. He moved over a bit, holding onto Azriphale’s arm. This caught his attention, and Crowley nuzzled a bit against his shoulder.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter at all.”


End file.
